Thet Wai Poet Free verse

A Son Is Loved. A Grandson Is Cherished.

This boy
My son.
I used to feel  
that he never listened to me,  
always going against me.

This boy  
was one of my biggest problems.

The machinery inside him  
was like the latest EFI system  
once I took it apart,  
I wouldn't know how to put it back together.

Still, I could never throw him away  
a glistening, greasy chunk of meat  
covered in sand.

A termite,  
perhaps,  
for whom I traded  
my own dreams  
for his future.

Then my grandson said,

Grandpa, you don't understand anything.  
Look here.  
Don't worry.  
I'll explain it to you.

That boy—my son  
even complained  
that his own son  
was getting on his nerves.

But my grandson

he is just like  
the way I was when I was young.

I find myself  
drifting along with his imagination,  
wandering through  
the little worlds inside his head.

And sometimes,  
I even find myself amazed  
at my own son

because somehow,  
my grandson  
is even more lovable  
than his father.

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